thwuck

That's the sound I make in my head when I try to describe this.
Thanks, sophocles, I have your cold or whatever the fuck. Not to mention that weird mannerism you have of squinting and wrinkling your nose when you're skeptical about something. Take that back, too, ok? ;-P
I do say that jokingly, because otherwise, it's been quite an enjoyable weekend so far. Swords of Mars, Wes (dreadalus) is out of the house (which is good because my shit is falling apart and we'd drive each other nuts), I get to see Mark (dosferatu, like he ever writes) tomorrow, I just watched "The Killing," and ... Oh Yeah! I'm not working at the house. Maybe I'll get a chance to cook those mashed potatoes before they take root and grow on the kitchen counter.
Jay-zus Criest, we don't get paid nearly enough.
I mean, fuck, I'd kill for getting a chance at an audience like that, but daaay-um, not three and seven and 10 at a time all night long. I think of this. I just played for over five hours, on stage, with an audience of like ah, what, 3,000? with a lot of success. In 30-second intervals. Ow. Every fucking thing hurts. What a rush. Ow. Shit. I'm an actor. This is going to kill me. Shoot me, Strobel. Shoot me now.

The quick, the dead, and the fucking weird.

Sitting here up way too late and looking at all the people on my friends list I don't feel fit to be around, to need, to be jealous of.

Reminds me of a game that a couple played in "The Killing." The Hero's girl tells him how badly she missed him and how lost she was without him, and how she's not smart (maybe she is, maybe not, we don't know) or pretty (she's undoubtedly the most beautiful person in the film) and if he leaves her she won't be able to find happiness anywhere else.

I was raised to feel nauseated at such talk, but it's just the sort of hyperbole I'd indulge in, and sometimes do, in a low-self-esteem-day kind of way. I'd rather do it the other way, but every time I think of going to the people in my life I'd love to say, for some reason, I just need to be in your life... well, it just feels dumb.

And yes, I've been looking at friends journals, and wondering why they never seem to say anything about ME. People think I'm egotistical, and maybe I am, but it's hard to tell. I'm actually the sort of person who goes around looking in mirrors because they're not sure if they exist. If I did get on film, I'd watch it, fascinated, and I'd hate it, too.